No Matter What
by loveadubdub
Summary: Promise me, we'll always be friends. No matter what." ... In the summer before the Horcrux hunt, Ron and Hermione make a promise.


**NO MATTER WHAT**

* * *

It was July, and it was _hot._

The summer heat, while certainly not all that pleasurable in any aspect, was especially horrible when it came to expanding already rancid smells. The smell she was referring to, of course, was mostly contained to the Burrow's attic where the ghoul was now dressed in pajamas and sporting horrible bubbling boils all over his… skin?

"Pretty nasty, huh?" She could hear Ron's voice from below her as he called up to her from the bottom of the ladder. She opened her mouth to reply but ended up just gagging in the process as the motion naturally released the breath she'd been holding, and she got a full taste of just _how _rancid it really was.

She absolutely couldn't take it anymore, and she backed down the ladder, feeling blindly for the next rung with her foot. When she found it, she started climbing down, and when she was about halfway to the floor, she felt hands on her waist grasping her and lifting her away from the ladder to set her safely back on her feet. They were gone as quickly as they'd appeared, and she turned around see Ron using his wand to send the attic ladder back up as the ceiling door snapped into place and locked itself promptly from the outside. Clearly, no one wanted the ghoul out wandering the house by himself.

"That was disgusting," she said, finally able to breathe. In fact, even the sweaty boy stench that filled Ron's bedroom smelled preferable to the attic, and she didn't even flinch as they went back in.

"Yeah, and it's supposed to be me, right? So I don't know whether to be offended or secretly think it's kind of cool."

Hermione laughed at the pure ridiculousness of the statement and didn't know whether to roll her or eyes at him or agree that it was a tough decision.

"It took them ages to do it, too," Ron went on, dropping onto his bed and flopping unceremoniously onto his back.

He was too big for his bed, and his ankles and feet fell over the end. Still, she joined him there, pretending not to notice and refusing to admit to herself that it was a perfect excuse to be a little too close. He didn't mind, and she could tell how different things were by the fact that he didn't tense up or turn red or anything like he might have done a couple of years ago had she got a bit too close. They were growing up, and it was more than obvious.

Ron was still blathering on about the ghoul in the attic, but Hermione was hardly paying attention. She was distracted by the way their knees were touching and the way that her ankles were nearly crossed right over his calves in order to allow them both room to fit on the bed. He was laid out completely, but she was more propped against the pillows, not yet brave enough to actually _lie down _there. Still, she was close. _They _were close.

She'd shown up in that very room four nights ago in tears and damn near close to hysterics. Her parents were gone. She'd wiped their memories and sent them to Australia. They'd asked her if she was new to the neighborhood as she stood out front by their waiting taxi. It was the worst day of her life. Still, though, she thought she'd prepared herself. She thought that she would be able to send them off and still be alright, knowing that she'd only done so for their own protection. After they were gone, it didn't feel like that at all. She'd been miserable and terrified, not knowing if their question about her newness to the neighborhood would be the last thing she ever heard either of them say.

So she followed Moody's and Kingsley's instructions and went straight to the Burrow.

They'd agreed to her plan and had even offered a bit of assistance with working things out with the Australian Ministry who needed to be aware of the situation. But they'd forbid her from staying in her parents' house alone. As soon as she was finished, she was to leave and go straight to the Burrow and _stay_ there. She was not allowed to leave under any circumstances, nor was she allowed to have any further contact with the people she'd just blindly sent to the other side of the world. She'd been a fully legal adult witch for nearly a year, yet she'd never been treated more like a child in her life.

But she followed their instructions, knowing that it was for her own good and, really, that she had no other choice anyway. If she didn't comply with their wishes, they'd simply find a way to _make _her. So it was with that in mind that she grabbed her bag, took one last look around the house she'd grown up in, and Apparated to the outskirts of the Burrow's property. The security measures there were extremely tight, and it was now impossible to Apparate straight into the house. Mr. Weasley met her and escorted her the short distance to the house. Mrs. Weasley tried immediately to shove food down her throat, but she declined, knowing that if she ate anything, she'd be sick. Her stomach was already twisted in knots, and she knew better than to test it. They both looked at her sympathetically but didn't push the issue, instead telling her that she could take her things upstairs and that Ginny should be in her room. She nodded and went upstairs as they said, though she didn't stop on Ginny's landing. She continued all the way to the top floor and knocked quietly on the door there.

The second it was opened, she immediately burst into tears.

She'd been holding them in until that moment, but at that point, there was no need to hold them back anymore. And she cried like she'd never cried before. In fact, she was fairly certain that she was actually having a panic attack. She half-expected Ron to freak out and run for his mum, but he didn't. He pulled her into his room, closed the door behind her, and hugged her. It was a grown up hug- not the awkward, pat-on-the-back sort of hugs that she was used to. This one was different. He hugged her the way she'd always hoped he would but really never thought he'd get around to. And it actually made her cry even harder.

She was a mess, of course, by the time she'd finally got her breath back properly and had drifted from hysterics into an unsteady bout of the sniffles. She didn't have a mirror, but she knew that she looked horrible, knew that her cheeks were red and splotchy and that her eyes were swollen and strained. Still, when he finally released her out of the hug, he didn't look at her in disgust or anything like that. He placed one hand on her shoulder and used his other hand to carefully push some hair out of her face and tuck it behind her left ear.

And it was the most adult thing she'd ever seen him do in her life.

Things had been like that pretty much ever since, too. Only a few days had passed, but he was being nicer to her than he'd ever been. And he was being world's less awkward than he normally was. She didn't know what had got into him, and part of her wondered if he was actually doing research to determine the best ways to charm a girl. Of course, she knew that was ridiculous, as the idea of Ron willingly researching anything was about as likely as him snogging Draco Malfoy.

So maybe he was just growing up. That's what she told herself, and she loved the idea. If he was growing up, then maybe things could start moving forward. Things she'd been waiting on for ages but had nearly given up on constantly because he seemed to be in a perpetual twelve year old boy state. It was maddening really, but she'd had no other choice. She couldn't _make _him mature, and the more she'd tried over the years, the more they'd argued.

But they weren't arguing now.

In fact, they hadn't so much as bickered in the days since she'd arrived. He was being so nice to her, so sweet and sincere. She had no choice, of course, but to return the favor. She did her best, though, to hide the way it made her feel. But it wasn't just the things he was saying, either- it was also the things he was _doing. _He was touching her now- and not freaking out, either. It was just little things, of course, but little things that had never really happened before. He would grab her elbow sometimes when they were walking, or brush hair out of her eyes when they were talking, sometimes he'd slip an arm over her shoulder for no reason at all, and he even pretended to waltz with her for a few seconds after his mum had been on some tangent about music for Bill and Fleur's rapidly approaching wedding.

And she was pretty sure she was going to go absolutely _crazy _before too long.

He was still babbling on about the ghoul, and she nodded vaguely at something he said. She was so distracted, though. She wondered when the tables had suddenly turned, and _she'd _become the one incapable of holding an attention span for more than a few moments. It was just so easy to be distracted, though, when they were practically _lying _together in his _bed. _And he didn't even seem to notice.

She wanted to kiss him.

She wanted to kiss him and do a whole lot more that she knew was definitely _not _proper. She couldn't help it, though, and she put most of it down to teenage hormones because that was the easiest excuse. It also made her feel the least slaggish, as she couldn't really help the fact that she was seventeen years old and, therefore, hormonal by default. Still, she knew people didn't view her as someone who probably had those sort of thoughts, which was stupid, really, but the truth. Ron, especially, would be the type of person who would probably be completely mortified if he knew half the things that went on in her head, even though she was perfectly well aware that things much worse were probably happening inside of his own.

But it wasn't just about the hormonal crap. She just wanted them to be at a point where they could finally stop the stupid game they'd been playing for years now. She was sick of it, and she knew he must be, too. Lavender Brown was the last move in that game, and they both knew it. She wasn't sure who had actually come out as the winner, but she was willing to just call it a draw if they could just _stop. _

"Um, _hello?"_

Hermione jumped a little bit at the large hand that was now waving pointedly in front of her face. She'd completely zoned out, and she was mortified to be caught.

"I didn't know I was _that _boring." Ron was joking, and she felt better, smiling as she tipped her head backwards to lean against the wall.

"Sorry," she said sheepishly. "I think I didn't sleep enough last night or something."

"You can take a nap," he said immediately, moving into a sitting position. "I'll wake you up before dinner."

She didn't know if he was insinuating that she could kip in his bed or not, but the thought made her a little bit too excited. Still, it was a total lie, and she wasn't tired in the least. "No," she continued the lie, "if I nap now, I'll never get to sleep tonight." Good save.

"Oh." He hesitated for a second as though trying to think of something to say, and then his eyes widened slightly. "Oh, yeah, look at this!"

She didn't even have time to register what was happening before he was leaning flat across her and digging through the bedside table to her left. She tried not to get too excited by the movement, tried not to focus on the way that he smelled so intoxicating to her. He smelled like _summer. _That was the only way she could describe it. Like fresh grass and trees. It was a result of the morning chores he always got stuck with, like degnoming the garden or working the hedges. It thrilled her a little bit.

"This is the letter that went out to the Order about the plan to pick Harry up. Fred gave it to me because, you know, everyone's still trying to act like I'm just a kid and all that. But yeah, look."

She tried not to lament the loss of his scent as he sat back and stopped stretching out over her lap. Instead, she focused on the parchment he was unfolding and holding in his lap. She skimmed the words, written by Moody, of course, and tried to imagine the plan in her head. She'd heard of it before and had been filled in on some of the details, but this was the first time she'd ever really tried to imagine it. There was still some argument about whether she and Ron would even be allowed to participate, though they were both of age and able to make their own decisions regarding those sorts of things.

July 31st was only two weeks away.

She didn't really know what was going to happen after that. Ideally, they'd be able to wait until after the wedding before they had to do anything, but they couldn't say for sure. Depending on the situation, they might have to leave at the spur of the moment. She knew that, and she was already taking all the steps to be prepared as possible. It gave her something to keep her mind occupied at least, but it also terrified her a little bit. She was a planner, and she liked to have a schedule event. She didn't like waiting around blindly for some sort of notice that it was time to leave.

"Are you scared?" she asked suddenly, staring at the side of Ron's head as he looked up from the letter in his lap. A second later, though, he turned his own head and met her eye.

"Of this thing?" He held up the letter in demonstration. "Well, I mean, turning into Harry wouldn't be my _ideal _way to spend a Saturday night, but, you know, gotta do what you gotta do, right?"

He was trying to crack a joke and lighten the mood. She could tell from his eyes, though, that she knew he wasn't referring to that specific event and that he _was, _in fact, scared.

"Do you think we're going to die?"

It was a thought that'd been sitting just at the edge of her mind for weeks now, and she couldn't shake it no matter how hard she tried. The color in Ron's eyes darkened, and she was distracted by that for a second until he started speaking, and his voice was more serious than she'd ever heard.

"Hermione, you're _not _going to die. I promise you that. No matter what, okay? I'm not going to let you die."

"You can't know that."

"I would die _myself _before I'd ever let anything happen to you."

He sounded so serious that it almost frightened her all over again. He _was _being serious. He had that intensely determined look on his face that he sometimes, though rarely, got, and she knew he was telling the truth. It scared her.

"I don't want you to die," she said quietly, no longer able to look him in the eye, as his steely gaze was almost too nerve-wracking. "I want all of us to just be okay." She was mumbling toward the blanket now.

She knew she was being too serious. She knew that there was a point she could get to and then a line she could cross when it came to all the seriousness stuff. Ron wasn't a very sappy sort of person, and he wasn't comfortable in situations such as these. She almost apologized for getting so far off-track, but he spoke first, beating her to it.

"I want that, too," he admitted, and his voice was quiet and oddly solemn. "But we'll just have to deal with whatever happens and hope for the best." He sounded oddly matured, and she looked back up to see that he was watching her closely. "But you know, at least we'll all be together, and we can take care of each other."

By all, he meant them and Harry. Harry was always there at the back of their minds. It was annoying a way because she didn't feel as if there could ever just be a _them. _There would always be an _all _of them. She loved Harry, of course, and knew and understood perfectly well that he really was the key to everything. He needed them because they were his best friends, but when it came to it, he could have been best friends with Dean and Seamus or Lavender and Parvati, and it wouldn't have made any difference. She and Ron were not special. They only got mixed up in this whole thing because Ron _happened_ to sit in the same compartment as Harry when they were eleven years old and because they _happened _to save her from a troll a couple of months later. But it could have just as easily been anyone else, and they all knew it.

Sometimes Hermione secretly wished that it was.

She didn't verbalize that, of course, and she didn't _really _wish it. Not seriously anyway. The thought just flitted through her mind occasionally on instances when she was particularly frustrated with their situation and the danger they were in. It also crept up when she realized that both she and Ron had to put _themselves _on hold for Harry. And that was stupid anyway, wasn't it? Why should they have to keep putting their own feelings on hold just because Harry was always at the forefront of some life-threatening mission? It was silly. Harry, after all, had paid them no thought whatsoever before he ran headfirst into snogging Ginny all over the school and the grounds. True, he'd broken up with her in the end, but that had been him trying to protect her from Death Eaters. It certainly hadn't been him realizing that perhaps it was odd for her and Ron. Especially for Ron.

But still, it felt as though they constantly found themselves in this quandary. Well, really that was a lie. They'd never found themselves in _this _particular quandary before- never found themselves so bloody close and, in fact, _ready _to take the next step in whatever it was that was brewing between them. And it was the truth, too. Hermione knew that as badly as she wanted to kiss Ron and do all those other things, that he wanted them, too. She was no longer so self-conscious that she doubted his feelings. He wanted her the same way she wanted him, and they both knew it. They both knew that all it would take would be one of them _finally _making a move, and then there would be no turning back.

It was just a shame that neither of them was willing to make that first move.

It wasn't a fear of rejection or anything like that that was preventing her, but Hermione was just nervous because she knew that once something happened, they couldn't take it back. She'd never been in love with anyone before, so she didn't know how it felt to be with someone and truly love them and then one day _not _be with them. That's what terrified her more than anything. _If _something really did finally happen between them, she knew that it wasn't going to a joke. It wasn't going to be polite, shy pecks with a boy she didn't really know, as had been the case with Viktor. And it wasn't going to be disgusting, tongue gagging awful public displays of affection, as had been the case with Ron and Lavender. No, what she and Ron would have would be something much more serious and real, and she had no doubt in her head whatsoever that she could fall blindly and maddeningly in love with him. Sometimes, she thought she already was.

But what would happen when it was over?

Ideally, it would never be over. Ideally, they'd fall in love, get married, have a family, and live happily ever after. However, Hermione wasn't nearly naïve enough to believe that just because things started blissfully meant that they always ended blissfully. Plenty of people fell in love and did _not _get happily ever afters. But what _did_ they get in the afters? Did they suddenly hate the person they'd previously been devoting their whole lives to? Did they feel so much disdain for that person that they never wanted to speak to them again? It could happen. She'd _seen _it happen. And she didn't want it to.

"I mean, who knows what's going to happen?" Ron's voice broke through her thoughts once again, and she tried to ignore the way the seriousness of his eyes made her feel. "We'll just have to deal with it as it happens, won't we? But I'll always take care of you, okay?"

He was trying to soothe her and make her feel better. She really just wanted him to put his arms around her and hold her, but she couldn't ask for that.

"No matter what happens," she said, speaking up for the first time in awhile, "we'll still always be friends, won't we?"

He smiled at her in a way she didn't think he would have done had they not been alone. "Yeah, 'course."

He assumed she was talking about no matter what happened with their upcoming "adventure." Partly, she was. Really, though, she wanted him to promise that no matter what happened with _them _that he'd always be her friend. They were best friends, and she didn't want any of that to change, no matter what happened between them. If they got together and stayed together, or if they got together and didn't stay together… or if they never got together at all. She didn't want to lose their friendship, and she wanted to hear him promise her that it wouldn't.

"We'll always be best friends, no matter what." He nudged her with her his shoulder. "You, me, and Harry."

Harry. Right.

"Right," she agreed quietly, not wanting to tell him that it had nothing to do with Harry.

It didn't matter anyway, though, because the door to his bedroom flew open at that exact moment, and Ginny stood there red-faced, obviously just having run all the way up the stairs.

"Mum says for you to go help Dad and Bill in the shed," she said, looking at Ron expectantly.

Ron sat up even straighter and glared at her a little bit. "Don't you know how to knock?" he asked irritably.

"Where's the fun in that?"

He grumbled something but stood up nonetheless. "What the hell are they doing anyway?"

Ginny just shrugged. "Don't know, don't care. Something for the wedding, I'm _sure." _She didn't even try to the distaste on her face.

Ron kicked his shoes on without ever actually touching them or untying them. Hermione fought the urge to tell him that he was going to ruin the backs. She said nothing, still a little heady from the fact that he'd just missed the entire point she was trying to make. She noticed Ginny staring at her with an awful sort of look of mischievous pleasure. Without a word, Hermione narrowed her eyes as she slid off the bed and slipped her own shoes back on properly. Her look silenced Ginny who just smirked a little bit more and then disappeared back down the stairs.

As she stood up from getting her shoes back on, Hermione saw that Ron was standing there waiting for her. He caught her off-guard by giving her the same smile he'd shot her just moments before they were interrupted.

"I promise," he said, still smiling as he slung an arm around her shoulder and gave her a little squeeze. "No matter what."

And she had a feeling that maybe he _didn't _miss the whole point after all.

* * *

A/N: Well, that was just a quick little one shot! It's compliant with the rest of the stories and meant to be a tiny little outtake from chapter 40 of Back to the Beginning, though I supposed it'd really be a _pre-_take… Anyway, I'd love to hear your thoughts, and thanks for reading!


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